


The Tale of Team Free Will

by AderaReam



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Death But Not Really, Death and his junk food, M/M, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Tale of Three Brothers-HP, ignoring everything after season 8, tale of the three brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 13:03:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2429834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AderaReam/pseuds/AderaReam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The tale of the Three Brothers from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows told as a Supernatural AU. Just a little bit of Destiel at the end, some Angsty Dean, and a few well placed minor characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Gifts

Dean, Sam, and Cas were leading the survivors of the Croatoan virus to safety. They had as many people as possible stacked into the impala and following behind and were racing out of the town. They stopped when they came to the river. It had over filled its banks and risen over the small bridge that led into the town. “Sammy, Cas!” Dean barked, putting the car in neutral. “Get out and help me push her!” All three hastily exited the car, although Sam and Castiel were perplexed at what Dean could be doing. “We’re going to use baby to make a bridge over the water.” Dean snapped by way of explanation, emptying the trunk of the impala as he did so. Sam and Cas were shaken by Dean’s willingness to give up the impala, but quickly moved to help.

Once the trunk was empty, the three of them, aided by some of the townspeople, shoved the impala into the rapids. The hood of the car barely peeked out of the water but it was enough, and Sam, Dean, and Castiel started herding people across. Once all of the town’s people were across, the three of them saw the croatoan infected catching up to them and scampered towards the opposite shore as well. However, once all three reached the hood of the impala, they were stopped by a familiar emaciated figure.

“What do you want, Death. We’re kinda in a hurry here.” Dean growled. The power behind it lost when he glanced over his shoulder.

“Dean. You shouldn’t be rude to one bearing gifts.” Death replied coolly. “I can guarantee that the croatoan’s won’t be moving again until you have all made your choices.”

“What gifts?” Dean asked, eyeing the reaper suspiciously.

“Dean!” Sam chastised his brother.

“What?” Dean shot back. “Gifts from him? They always have strings attached.”

“No, Dean, not this time. These are gifts, no price to be paid, as a… thank you of sorts for making my job easier today.” The reaper said, gesturing to the bank behind him.

“Right, no price except my soul.” Dean snapped.

“Don’t be foolish, I’ll reap your soul no matter what.” Death stated. Dean still wasn’t convinced.

“Dean.” Castiel piped up. “Death is powerful. It would be foolish to not accept his kindness.” Dean hesitated for a moment before relenting. Sam snorted, and mumbled something about whips under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, Dean. So about these gifts…”

“Yes. You each get to ask me for one thing. Anything.” Death replied simply.

“Anything we want?” Dean asked, skepticism leaking into every word.

“Yes, anything, Dean.” Death drawled. Castiel was the first to ask.

“I would like the power to defeat Metatron, and take back heaven.” Death pulled a knife out of his coat and handed it to Castiel.

“That knife will kill an angel, for good. None of your angel blades can do that.” Death smiled thinly and waved Cas past him. Castiel thanked Death and moved on to the other side of the river. The next to speak up was Sam.

“I would like something to bring the dead back to life.”

“Wish to make a fool of me do you?”

“No! No, I just…” Death silenced Sam with the wave of his hand and produced a small stone from his coat.

“Here. Turn this stone over three times, and your lost will return to you.” Death smiled that same tight smile.

“Thanks.” Sam breathed. “Thank you so much.” Sam dipped his head slightly and hurried past Death onto the opposite shore, cradling the stone in his palms. Dean watched and his heart broke for his brother, because he knew that there was no way Sam’s gift would work out well for him. Dean thought for a while longer before he found what to ask for.

“I want something that will let me avoid you for as long as I can. No impromptu visits before I am good and ready.” He punctuated the last few words with a finger in Death’s chest. Reluctantly, Death took off his coat and handed it over to Dean.

“Wear this,” he stated, “and it will turn you invisible.” There was no smile this time. Dean squinted at him but thanked him anyway and carried on to the opposite bank of the river.

Once he was across, he laid the coat down quickly and helped the others pull the Impala out of the river. She was waterlogged but still drivable, and they managed to get her out just before the croatoans made it to the river. They all jumped into the water only to be swept downstream and into the ocean.

“Okay, we’re safe for now but we need to get to shelter!” Dean called as he picked up Death’s coat and put it next to him in the Impala. The small children were loaded into the Impala and the adults marched determinedly behind.

When the people were settled in to the next town over, Dean, Sam, and Castiel all clamored into the impala and drove on. The next time they stopped was at a motel in Springfield. Dean flopped on the bed and immediately fell asleep. When he woke up, it was to Sam and Cas packing their things. “Where are you guys going?”

“Dean, we… we decided to go our separate ways.” Sam replied hesitantly.

“What? Without even telling me first?”

“We’re telling you now Dean. Cas’ going to face Metatron…”

“Whoa, whoa, wait. You’re going to take on Metatron without me? Without anyone?” Dean asked, turning to face Cas. Castiel held his gaze.

“I have Death’s knife now Dean. I can do this. I am doing this alone to keep you safe. I have millennia of combat training at my disposal Dean, and Metatron has none. He will not trick me again.” Cas was confident. Sam cut in again.

“And I’m… I’m going back Dean. I’m getting Madison back.” Dean looked at Sam for a long moment. His mouth was slightly open. He looked down and scratched the stubble on his face, and when he looked back up his eyes were desperately trying to contain the tears that were threatening to spill.

“Well, okay.”

“Okay?” Sam was expecting more of a fight.

“Yeah, okay. You always wanted out. And with a gift from Death himself you just might make it.” Dean was lying, he knew it, but the hope in Sam’s face, and he just could bear to break it. He watched silently as the two of them said their goodbyes and stood slowly to demand a hug from them both before they left. He held on tight for the few seconds he was allowed. When he pulled back he looked both of them square in the face. “And if you ever, ever need anything, do not hesitate to call me. Okay?”

“Yeah, Dean. We will.” Sam spoke for both of them. When they left, Dean finally let the tears come.

 

 


	2. Castiel's Power

Castiel made his way to an abandoned warehouse a few towns over. He called out, “Metatron, you assbut, get down here.” He heard a flutter of wings, and a honeyed voice behind him.

“Oh dear Castiel, I didn’t expect for you to call on me! If I did I would have…” His words were cut off by the serrated edge of a knife being plunged up through his jaw and into his cranium. A clap of thunder rang throughout the building and a shockwave sent Cas spinning into the back wall. A light brighter and hotter than lightning filled the cavernous space and Castiel feared his eyes would be melted from their sockets regardless of if they were closed or not. When the glow finally faded, all that was left was Death’s knife, a small pile of ash, and scorched onto the floor was the imprint of six gigantic wings.

Castiel tread lightly and bent to pick up the knife. “Goodbye, brother.” He intoned, straightening and turning to leave that place behind him.

When Castiel went outside he looked up at the sun that was mocking him; not nearly as bright as his brother in his death throes, but vastly more important to the world around him. What Cas found even more horribly ironic was that that day was a Thursday, the day he used to govern along with Metatron.

Castiel had killed many of his brothers, many more had died, and Metatron cast the rest from heaven. However, Castiel did not, could not, anticipate the pang he felt as Metatron’s swan song played. He looked down at the knife and realized that pang was caused by the true death of an angel. Not the expulsion to the other side of the universe that constitutes death for an angel, but true death, nothingness. Nothing awaits an angel in death, because they were never meant to die. There is a hole in the universe, and Castiel feels it most keenly.

Still he soldiers on. There is work to be done to get the rest of his siblings back to heaven.

 

Cas travels the world to find his siblings. Kevin found a part of the angel tablet that restores their grace to them. One by one his siblings take trials and pass, returning to heaven as its hosts. Castiel himself, however, chooses to remain human. Metatron’s death scared him. Castiel wanted the insurance of an afterlife, especially with the knife in his possession.

However, there are downsides to being human. Pride and the ability to get drunk easily are two. “So, I got this knife right?” Cas slurs, waiving around the knife in question. “See? It can kill angels, like, forever.” He hiccups.

Later on that night, he staggers back to his motel room. Forgoing a shower in favor of his bed, he drops the knife on his nightstand and falls onto his bed and into a blissful, drunken sleep.

Silently as a shadow, a figure slips into the room. Shining black eyes cold as she surveys the former angel sprawled out on the bed. Sliding over next to the bed, she takes Death’s knife and for good measure, slits Castiel’s throat. Leaving triumphantly, flipping the knife and tucking it into her belt. (It should be mentioned that she dies a week later. The knife is taken, and taken again, each time leaving the corpse of its previous owner until it finally finds its way into storage. There it will remain until the storage house it is currently in burns down in 48,594 C.E. and it is the only thing that remains intact.)

Castiel woke to find himself in the booth of a small diner. “Care to have some before you go? I hear the chicken and waffles served here are the best.” Death motioned to the stocked plates in front of Cas and himself, then continues with his meal.

“What am I doing here?”

“Final meal.” Death drawls, taking another bite of his syrup covered chicken.

“Final… meal?” and then the penny drops. “I’m dead.” Death nods approvingly.

“Very good Castiel, you are dead. However, you are also human, and in your time as human you have done some rather wonderful things. So, I hope you enjoy your little slice of heaven.” Death smiled slightly, a genuine one this time. “It’s time for you to rest, Castiel, your work is over.” Death places two fingers on Castiel’s forehead and when Cas looks up again he is in a field. Behind him is Bobby’s house and beside him a very familiar ’67 Chevy Impala. He stretches out his jet black wings luxuriously but sends a prayer out to anyone listening.

“Don’t let them get here too soon.”

Dean reads in the newspaper about a mysterious stranger who blew into a small town and was killed later that night. The reason? Well, it was expected that it was over the stranger’s prized knife that was taken from his room. “The man claimed it could kill angels!” One bar patron told him.

Dean flashed his fake FBI badge at the motel and walked in to see the familiar form of Cas, his Cas, sprawled out on the bed. Barely managing to keep his composure, Dean gently removes Cas’ trench coat and places it inside of Death’s. He swings Death’s coat over his shoulders, and leaves the scene with the officers wondering where he went.

And so, Death claimed the first member of Team Free Will.

 


	3. Sam's Pride

Sam Winchester took three busses, a train, and hitchhiked six times before he found a decent sized town that had never heard his name or anything of the Croatoan virus, carefully keeping track of Death’s stone as he traveled. Sam set himself up as a handyman and rented an apartment. When he had everything set up he took the stone out of its hiding place in the secret pocket in his back pack. Turning it over in his hands he thought of one thing, Madison.

“Sam?” a wavering voice questioned. Sam opened his eyes to see Madison standing before him, staring wide eyed around the room. “I… oh god Sam!” She fell on the floor, tears in her eyes and he fell with her, holding her.

“Shh. It’s okay, you’re here now.” She looked up at him.

“But, how? I was dead, I knew that but the afterlife was… frightening. There was this huge never-ending forest and monsters everywhere! I… I had to kill people to survive.”

“Yeah, that was Purgatory. It’s where… it’s where things like werewolves go when they die.” Sam swallowed heavily. “But you’re here now.” He tried for a smile.

“Yes.” She smiled back, but it didn’t stay.

Weeks went by and it seemed that everything was going alright. Madison got a job at the local animal shelter and things were settling down. Then the first full moon came. They tried everything to keep her inside, but all of it failed. The next morning a homeless man turned up dead and people were warned about bobcats or other large predators in the area. Madison stayed in the bathroom that morning for half an hour longer than usual.

Madison tried to go see her family once, before realizing that they had buried her. “It might scare them a bit, to see their dead daughter walking around.” She had laughed it off, but Sam saw how her eyes had burned with pain and anger.

When the next full moon came, Sam tried a different tactic and kept Madison in the woods near a den of foxes hoping she would go after them instead of people. When the moon rose and she changed, she attacked him first. “Madison, MADISON it’s me! It’s Sam!” She sniffed him and then turned and bolted in the opposite direction. That morning she stayed in the bathroom for an hour longer.

Sam saw a story online about an attractive man who was murdered in his hotel room after bragging about a knife that could kill angels. Sam sent up a prayer for the first time in a long time for his friend.

As each full moon passed, Sam noticed that the duration Madison was spending in the bathroom afterwards was getting longer and longer. She also grew more short-tempered with him. One morning he decided to see what was up. He knocked on the bathroom door.

“Madison, I’m coming in.”

“No, don’t!” She yelled, but it was too late. Sam walked in to see Madison at what appeared to be mid-transformation. “I… it’s getting worse. Each time I change I’m more like the wolf.” She said quietly, eyes downcast.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked. “I could have found some way to stop-“

“But I don’t think you can!” She cut him off. “Everything you’ve tried has failed and now I’m turning fully into a monster! I get the bloodlust all the time now! There is nothing, NOTHING you can do about it, and…” She broke off, tears threatening. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re not going to hurt me, you could never-“

“But I almost did, quite a few times! Sam, I want you to go get that gun that I know you have, and shoot me.” Sam rocked back as if hit by a physical blow.

“What?”

“You heard me. Get that gun and shoot me. I don’t want to be alive anymore and…” now the tears did come, “This, this constant fear of myself, of being completely a monster, this is not living. Please Sam, just end it.” Sam, defeated, went and retrieved his gun.

A single shot to the heart was all it took. Sam looked down at Madison’s body and suddenly grew enraged, storming out into the main room of the apartment. He quickly located his backpack and ripped it open, furiously searching for Death’s stone. He wrenched it out of the bag and hurled it out of the window before staring blankly watching it arch through the air before landing in a small stream.

Sam sat there for an amount of time that could have been hours or seconds before he heard the police sirens. Looking up he saw the red and blue lights flashing through his window. He picked up his gun and fired a single shot…

Sam wakes up to find himself in a familiar cabin in front of a roaring fire. He looks over at his companion who stares back at him.

“Sam Winchester.” Death states. He pauses for a moment and looks around. “It seems that no one is coming this time. I must tell you again, well done, for all that you accomplished. It was an honor to reap your soul.” He smiles kindly before waving Sam on to heaven.

Sam stays in his own piece of heaven for a while before he notices the door. It’s old and broken and familiar, and he opens it to step out onto Bobby’s front porch. “You idgit.” Is all he hears before he is pulled into a crushing hug by Bobby, who is quickly replaced by Castiel.

“You should not be here so soon.” Cas states, sad eyed before sitting back down. Sam takes a moment before he joins them. “How did it happen?” Sam sighs.

“So get this…”

Dean hears about the murder suicide two weeks after it happens. “Oh, Sammy.” Is all he says as he reads the article. He is startled out of his thoughts by Garth, Charlie, and Kevin playing some sort of game around the bunker with Chrissie and her friends. He get caught in a hail of Nerf darts and doesn’t have much time to be sad as he ducks out of the way and joins the game, a small smile on his face. Later he will thank his friends for the distraction.

And so, Death claimed the second member of Team Free Will.


	4. Dean's Choice

Dean goes on for years. Chasing down the last of the Croatoans, teaching new hunters, he even becomes a legitimate priest to be the one to marry Charlie and Dorothy when they return from Oz. He becomes a supernatural intermediary between human, hunter, and creature, offering sanctuary to any who ask for it. The number of creatures and people in the bunker grows, and the bunker itself changes.

Eventually, through many hunts, negotiations, and funerals, Dean grows into an old man. He had many close shaves that would have killed him if not for his gift from Death. Said gift also allowed him to save the lives of others as well. Too old to join on most hunts, but still able to direct as needed, Dean becomes the most respected hunter the world ever knew.

One day, Dean woke up with a peculiar feeling. Something was ending. He knew this in the very core of himself, in the soul he managed to keep no matter how many times it had been taken away from him. He expected melancholy, not… acceptance. But this felt right, this time, he wouldn’t make it out alive and that was alright.

Dean levered himself up out of bed and dressed. He glanced over at Death’s coat and picked it up as he left his room. He walked out to where breakfast was already in full swing, Charlie, Dorothy, and Kevin, among others, gathered around the table. “Where’s Chrissy?” He asked, sitting down at the head of the table.

“There was a call, demon possession somewhere in Ohio, she went to check it out last night.” Charlie replied. Dean nodded his assent.

The main door to the bunker crashed open. “I could use some help up here!” Chrissy bellowed. A swarm of hunters descended upon the door and forced the demon attacking back outside. Only when the door was securely locked did anyone take notice of the man and the teenage boy that were with Chrissy. Everyone stared at each other for a moment before Dean managed to choke out, “Ben?!?”

The man’s head whipped around to the source of the voice. Dean had stood and followed the others, but was now trembling slightly.

“... Dean. I, I remember. You, you had that man wipe my memories, and my mom’s, but we both remembered eventually. I… never thought that I would see you again. Dean… Dad…. I” Ben finally trailed off and looked over at the teeneager who could only be his son.

Dean smiled. “Don’t tell me you named him after me?” He asked, amused. Ben blushed, but nodded.

“We’ve been hunting too, we only found out about your group recently. Well, I suppose they only found us recently, but we did put in a call for help for that demon.” Said the young Dean.  Dean looked over at the teen as well and saw with a start, his own green eyes staring back at him. That was when he knew. Slowly, Dean walked back to his chair and gingerly picked up the coat. He carefully brought it back to the young Dean. Holding it out, he said,

“Every young hunter needs a few tricks up his sleeve. Take this, and use it well.” Unsure of the gift, the teen took the coat nonetheless and put it on. Faint gasps echoed across the room when he disappeared. Dean Winchester smiled widely at his young counterpart when the youth removed the coat to stare at him in awe.  The teen stuttered out a thank you, that was lost.

Dean Winchester died at 9:03 in the morning of natural causes.

When he woke, Dean found himself in the booth of a brightly colored restaurant. Across from him sat Death, and laid before him was a feast of pies. Sparing a long glance for his companion, Dean gratefully dug into the food with a zeal that he had not felt in 50 years. That was when he glanced down again and realized that he was 30 once again. Shocked, he looked up at Death.

His emaciated companion smiled genuinely at him and said simply, “Your soul never really grew much past 30.” Then both continued with their pie.

Once the food had been eaten, Death turned to face Dean fully. Dean did the same. “Dean, you have proven yourself wise before, but never as much as you did when you asked for my coat. You have forged bonds of communication between creatures and saved many lives, which made my job easier. I think you have rather been a friend all these years.” He paused, “and you are certainly the only person I can share a meal with.” Dean laughed. “However, it is time for you to go, there are many waiting for you.” With one last smile and a wave of his hand, Death sent Dean on to heaven.

Dean landed and could barely take in his surroundings before he was drowning in trenchcoat and black feathers. He laughed and hugged the man, who would always be his angel, in return. Eventually he pulled back, but just far enough to look into those impossibly blue eyes. With no more hesitation, Dean and Cas leaned in together and finally sealed their feelings with a kiss.

They broke off the kiss only when the whoops and catcalls and exclamations of “Finally!” became a bit too much to ignore. Dean was greeted by Bobby, and Sam, and almost every hunter that had ever learned from him, with Cas always by his side. The way things were meant to be.

And so, Death took the last member of Team Free Will, who came to him as a friend.


End file.
